


Remorse

by lyricalsoul



Series: Hiatus [4]
Category: Sherlock Holmes (1984 TV), Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: 221b, Angst, M/M, Watson has angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-27
Updated: 2012-08-27
Packaged: 2017-11-12 23:35:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/496913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyricalsoul/pseuds/lyricalsoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watson goes to Baker Street, and encounters Mycroft.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remorse

"My instructions were to leave the rooms precisely as they are, Dr. Watson."

 

"Surely you realize that Holmes still considered them to be my rooms also, Mycroft." I lift my head to meet his gaze head on, and am surprised when he doesn't look at me. "What is it? Have you heard something?"

 

"Nothing," he says, still shifting his eyes away from mine.

 

I frown. "You are hiding something from me!" I clutch at his arm. "What is it! I demand you tell me!"

 

He pries my hand off his arm. "I am doing no such thing. My brother is dead. I trusted him to your care, and you lost him."

 

With a gasp, I take step backward. "I had not thought that you blamed me for... events. Professor Moriarty-"

 

"Is dead also," he sighs. "That is the only good that has come of this. I do not blame you, Dr. Watson. Sherlock's... fondness for you is another matter altogether."

 

I do not know how to reply to this. Holmes' fondness for me was something I had only recently discovered. "I am truly sorry that I could not find him, Mycroft."

 

"I did not expect you to," he says in that same off-hand tone. "Evidently, what Sherlock said about your ability for deduction and reasoning were correct."

 

I blink in surprise at the unexpected accusation in his tone. "Surely Holmes... he knew that Moriarty wanted to do him harm, and that he would stop at nothing. He kept me in the dark until the last possible moment. In fact, I believe it was he that sent me the note to return to the hotel."

 

Mycroft shakes his head. "He allowed his love for you to cloud his judgment, and sent you away for your own safety. How unlike him. But then, he never did have common sense where you were concerned. Does Mrs. Watson know?"

 

The question catches me off guard, and I can only shake my head ruefully. "I did not know of his feelings until a few days ago. It was not my intention to deceive my wife."

 

"At any rate," he continues, "I am sorry that his death has left you in such a state of anguish. He would not want that."

 

"I know. But... we... he had come to be family to me, and now that he's gone, I.." I clear my throat. "I'm sure you understand."

 

He nods. "I do, which is why it pains me to speak so at such a time. Sherlock left instructions that were to be carried out, should he die."

 

"I understand."

 

"The rooms here are to be left just as they are now. You can take your belongings, but you must consider 221b Baker Street off limits to you after today."

 

With a gasp, I shut my eyes against the tears that threaten to fall. "I... why?"

 

"It is what he wanted, Doctor. I am charged with keeping his wishes."

 

"I see." I look around the sitting room. "Can I... may I at least have a memento?"

 

"Well..."

 

"His rug," I say, hurrying over to the settee where the drab grey rug is thrown haphazardly across the back. "It would mean a lot to me..."

 

"All right. But please, do hurry and take your things. I have to return to my rooms before a certain time."

 

"Fine." I snatch up the rug, and throw the pipes I'd left behind in my satchel. "Sorry to have taken you away from your routine. Good day, Mr. Holmes." I storm from the room, brushing past an astonished Mrs. Hudson.

 

"Dr. Watson-"

 

"I apologize, dear lady, but I must go before..." I take a deep breath. "It pains me, Mrs. Hudson. Please understand."

 

"I do, Doctor," she says gently. She pets my hand, and hands me a package. "He left a note that I was to give you this. Open it when you get home, all right?"

 

"Yes." I look at the package, then back at her. "What is it?"

 

"Oh, you know he wasn't big on sharing secrets," she laughs. "But I'm sure it's something you'll cherish, something to put that lovely smile back on your face."

 

"I've no reason to smile. I've lost the one thing..." I trail off. No need to travel down that path. Especially not now. "I must go. I hope to someday see you again, Mrs. Hudson." I grab the package from her hands and hurry out into the street.

 

I look up at the bay window, and the memory of the last time I saw Holmes standing there is too much. The dam finally breaks. There, in the middle of Baker Street, with Holmes' tattered rug clutched in my hands, I begin to sob.


End file.
